


Warming up

by flyingllamas, Windymon



Series: modern!AU shenanigans [5]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caretaker Lor'themar, Domestic Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Illnesses, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 06:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15189089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingllamas/pseuds/flyingllamas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windymon/pseuds/Windymon
Summary: Rommath thinks he is fully capable of dealing with whatever life throws at him, but when he's laid low by a nasty bug, he finds himself in the best possible place to help him recover.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, I made Silvermoon schools (semester length, classes) a hodge-podge of American and European schools.  
> Also, any mention of football is the European variety, called soccer in America.
> 
> The prologue and epilogue (Rommath POV) are by flyingllamas, the middle part (Lor'themar POV) is by me (Windymon). :)

Rommath couldn’t remember the last time he felt  _ this _ awful. Truly, it was some kind of miracle that, in all his years dealing with overworked interns and teaching children who seemed to be carriers of a new plague, he had been sick so few times. His relative immunity did nothing for him now, though, as whatever virus he picked up settled into his bones and made him ache and sniffle. 

 

Tonight, he’d promised Salandria (and Lor’themar, but the attractive veteran-come-teacher was secondary to his daughter’s joy he told himself) that he would come over and cook. She seemed to really enjoy his cooking, or his presence, or  _ something _ , but Rommath couldn’t find himself to let her or her father down. So, he steeled himself and put on a sweater that was probably entirely inappropriate for the hot, summer weather of Silvermoon and made his way over to their apartment.

 

Salandria answered the door with Tiberius at her side and a wide grin at her face, that quickly fell when she saw him.

 

“Mister Rommath,” she said, more serious than he’d ever heard her before, “are you feeling alright?”

 

“Just peachy,” he said through gritted teeth, trying not to take out his awful state on poor Salandria. She didn’t deserve that...perhaps he should have rescheduled after all. She stood aside to let him in, gently yanking on Tiberius’ collar to make the monstrous dog scoot over. “Where is your father? Hopefully not in the kitchen again.”

 

She gave him a considering look, one that seemed far beyond her age. He saw so much of her mother in her with that one look. “I’ll go check. Why don’t you sit down on the couch for now, in case I have to help him clean up something? It’s not fair if you have to help. You’re already making a really yummy dinner for us.”

 

Feeling as though there were some plot afoot, but too tired and sore to argue, he let Salandria push him towards the couch. Sinking down onto it was a new pain in itself; he just wanted to curl up and sleep there for all the pain he was feeling at that moment, until he felt better. But the world did not stop because he did: he had dinner to make, Aethas to push towards his potential, interns to boss, and a dance class to teach. 

 

Still, he let himself doze a little when Salandria wandered off. A little rest could only do him good. Tiberius joined him on the couch and curled up next to him, his head resting on Rommath’s lap. The warmth from the moose of a dog felt nice and he let his hands tangle in Tiberius’ fur as he dozed.

 

Something touched his forehead lightly and Rommath startled out of his dozing state. Lor’themar sat on the couch beside him, his hand covering Rommath’s forehead and single eye narrowed with concern. He could see Salandria standing in the doorway, rocking back and forth onto the balls of her feet as she watched them.

 

“You’re burning up,” Lor’themar told him, withdrawing his blessedly cool hand. “How did you even get here safely? Why did you even come, if you were feeling so poorly?”

 

“It’s just the sweater,” Rommath protested. “I shouldn’t have worn it. I’m fine, Theron.”

 

He was loathe to take it off and the moment he tried, his chills returned in full force. Lor’themar stopped him and tugged the sweater back down. “Enough,” he said. “You’re not cooking tonight. I would escort you back to your flat, if I weren’t so sure that you faint along the way. Salandria, honey, could you get Daddy a glass of water and the adult Motrin for Rommath here? And then the take-out menu for the Pandaren noodle place?”

 

Salandria took off like a flash before Rommath could say a word more. Lor’themar pushed him back against the couch and gave him a look. “Honestly, Rommath, you need to take better care of yourself.

 

“‘m fine,” Rommath said and then grimaced, unhappy that he was now slurring. Lor’themar looked unconvinced still, and sighed.

 

“Either way, I’m not letting you cook tonight,” he said. “We’ll just have a nice night in, maybe watch something, and then I’ll figure out how to get you home.”

 

“Or he could stay here, Daddy.” Salandria had appeared at Lor’themar’s elbow, glass of water and medicine bottle in hand. “We do have an extra bedroom.”

 

“Thank you, honey,” he said, taking the glass and handing it Rommath. He meted out a few pills and handed those to him too. 

 

“I really am fine, you know,” Rommath said, but was ignored.

 

Salandria placed the take-out menu on the coffee table and climbed on the couch on the other side of Tiberius, reaching over the giant dog to pat Rommath’s arm. Reluctantly, Rommath swallowed the pills and some water. He didn’t need to be taken care of like this. He was just a little under the weather, that’s all. Lor’themar and Salandria thought otherwise, and soon Lor’themar was phoning in an order for a metric ton of food. With her father gone, Salandria curled up against his other side. 

 

The rest of the night was hazy. The food didn’t particularly taste like anything to him, save for the spicier dishes, and Rommath was only aware of the warmth from Salandria and Tiberius, and the low rumble of Lor’themar’s voice. He couldn’t bring himself to try to track whatever they were watching. 

 

He startled a little awake once more, having dozed off at some point, when Lor’themar touched his forehead once more. Rommath tried to focus on the man kneeling before him, but his eyes refused to cooperate.

 

“He’s not much improved,” Lor’themar said, probably to Salandria.

“Daddy, please don’t let him go home,” she pleaded. “I’m really worried about him. I’ve never seen Mister Rommath like this.”

 

Lor’themar was silent for a moment. “I won’t, honey. Go get ready for bed, and I’ll take care of Rommath. I’ll be in to read your bedtime story in a bit.”

 

The next thing Rommath was aware of was being gathered up in Lor’themar’s arms, the world swaying around him dangerously as the other man carried him to what he presumed was their guest room. Lor’themar finally peeled the sweater off him and pulled the covers over him. After a moment of hesitation, he took the tie out of his hair. 

 

“I’ll be in to check on you in a bit, Rommath,” he said, smoothing a hand over his head. “Try to sleep.”

 

Rommath could only obey, sleep quickly taking him.


	2. Chapter 2

Lor’themar stood in the doorway watching the other man sleep. 

It felt vaguely intrusive, even though he knew Rommath wasn’t in any kind of state to notice. His left hand idly squeezed the wet towel he had brought, it had felt like such a cliche, ice-chilled towel to ease a fever when the meds weren’t working fast enough. Light knew he’d spent some harrowed hours by Salandria’s bedside, doing such a thing, while he waited for her doctor to finally pick up, dammit. (Then there’d been that crazy run with Salandria in his arms, forgetting his coat even though it was as cold as Silvermoon got, thank the Light for that kind neighbor who offered him a ride.)

Finally Lor’themar ended his awkward moment and moved the bag of dodgeballs so he could sit down next to Rommath on the bed. The guest room had not seen much use since Halduron moved in with Aethas, so he’d had to hastily clear away the worst of the mess to make sure Rommath was comfortable. As comfortable as he could be anyway.

How he’d made it there was still a mystery to Lor’themar, he must have been running on pure stubborn denial or something by the time he made it to their doorstep. Still, a selfish part of him was glad for this, for this excuse to get close to him. 

They had talked, yes. The look Rommath had shot him that first time he saw him after that attempt at an impressive dinner had made it impossible to keep up his stupid routine of gazing at him from afar. The second time, Lor’themar had even run over to the nearby coffee shop for coffees for them both, before he collected Salandria.

“Aethas says Rommath likes it the same as you," Halduron had supplied with a grin, as Lor’themar dashed over, feeling strangely self-conscious, his ears flushed. 

That feeling had vanished though, when he had caught that glint of gratitude in Rommath’s eyes.

It had turned out, while a formidable looking man, he could show emotion and Lor’themar lapped up any fragment he saw of what Rommath kept close to his chest.

Like his dedication to the children in his class, which mirrored Lor'themar’s own affection for the disabled kids who showed up for his weekly games. How he cared for all the weak and helpless things he came across, like the kittens he had taken on to foster when Aethas and Halduron hadn’t been able to make room for them. He had kept one of them, born deaf, which apparently meant it had no idea what was appropriate volume, or so Rommath had confided once.

Lor’themar gently placed the cold towel against Rommath’s forehead, his flushed cheeks and  let it rest against his partially exposed neck. The other man let out a sigh, but otherwise he did not react to the contact. Lor’themar kept folding and and refolding the towel, as the ice tucked inside melted, to keep the surface nice and cool. By the end of it, Rommath did seem to be sleeping easier, less of a faint and more of a proper rest. 

As much as he wanted to remain there, close to the other man, Lor’themar knew he had to at least be alert tomorrow to get Salandria off to school on time. 

He allowed himself the luxury of gently pushing away wet strands of hair from Rommath’s still much too warm forehead before he left him. It was fortunate that it being the very last week of school for the semester, he only had the one class tomorrow, one hour when he had to sit in as a grade six took one last home economics test. 

The next morning Rommath wasn’t much improved, though there was a feeble attempt at getting out of bed before the man collapsed back into it.

“You’re not going anywhere," Lor’themar soothed, folding the covers back over him. “I’ll just let Aethas know you won’t be showing for work and he can spread the word, okay?”

“No," Rommath mumbled weakly, but made no further attempts at getting up. 

“My cat," he croaked as Lor’themar was about to close the door. “Tell Aethas, my cat…”

“I will," Lor’themar said with what he hoped was a comforting enough smile and then left to make sure Salandria was getting ready for school.

Tiberius became a large and slobbering echo of Salandria’s worry as she picked at her breakfast.

“He’ll be fine," Lor’themar assured her, sipping his coffee while he tried not to glance towards the door to the guest bedroom. “It’s just a bit of the flu that’s going around.”

As much as Lor’themar hated the idea of leaving Rommath alone, he knew he had to, for he wasn’t sure what the school’s policy was of skipping work cause “this guy I might be kinda sorta in love with is currently collapsed in my guest bedroom and I feel this overwhelming urge to just sit there and feed him chicken noodle soup.”

He spent most of the hour of test sitting sending off text messages, to Aethas about Rommath, and the cat. Aethas was surprisingly on the ball.

 

_ I told him to go home yesterday. Well, I tried. -_- _

_ He’s as stubborn as an elderly hawkstrider _

_ Really! I wish he looked after himself as much as he does everyone else… But don’t tell him I said that! ;^^ _

_ Lips are sealed _

_...Aethas _

_ Yes? :) _

_ Do you have an easy recipe for chicken noodle soup? _

_ I’ll send you a link. :) _

_ Thanks. And tell Halduron that weekend plan to watch the game is cancelled, unless Rommath makes an amazingly fast recovery _

_ Okay... Good luck! <3 _

 

He had to look up as one of the children was handing her test in, first of all, and Lor’themar watched her leave with the smuggest look on her face and…

“No rude gestures, Liana," he scolded the girl. 

The girl huffed and threw her long bangs at him as she exited.

He offered a silent prayer to the Light that Salandria would not get to that stage anytime soon.

The buzzing of his phone brought him back to the problem waiting for him at home.

 

_ hey, so u finally got him into bed? _

_ Very funny, Hal. _

_ hahaha sorry. just wanted to check in to see if u needed anything. _

_ No, i think i have a handle on it for now. Aethas gave me an easy enough recipe for soup. _

_ dont burn down the kitchen. _

_ Thanks for the vote of confidence. _

_ feel my support transferred through this message. _

Halduron sent him a headshot of Gelert, cap on and looking like he was properly posing for the camera.

_ gelert believes in u too. _

_ Thanks, Hal. Talk to you later _

 

He wasn’t sure who was the most relieved when the bell rang, ending the class, the last kids leaving their tests on his desk with deep sighs. Peering into the window of Leafspirit’s class, very briefly, to check in on Salandria he then hurried home.

And was glad for that hurry, for Rommath had somehow managed to leave the bed and was trying to put his sweater, swaying dangerously as he coughed, deep and wet in his chest.

“I told you, you aren’t leaving in this state," Lor’themar said with a sigh, pulling the sweater off a barely protesting Rommath, who proceeded to literally fall into his arms.

“My cat…” Rommath repeated, his black hair matted to his sweaty forehead.

“Aethas will be looking after her," he said as he led Rommath back to the guest room.

He frowned at the shirt and pants Rommath was still wearing. Now that this was becoming a long term thing, he couldn’t leave Rommath in the clothes he wore the day before. After leaving Rommath swaying lightly on the bed, he dug out the old pajamas Liadrin had gotten him an eternity ago, tucked away for sentimental reasons even though they had shrunk enough in the wash that the arms and legs were a bit too short for him.

Rommath had collapsed back onto the bed when he returned and it suddenly occurred to Lor’themar that he would have to get Rommath undressed somehow. 

In all the sad, wet scenarios which had fueled his fantasies in the past when he was alone in bed, none of them included Rommath being sick and feverish.

“Rommath," he attempted. “You are going to have to help me here.”

He gently stroked the other man’s forehead, to see if he was awake and when his eyes blinked open, he showed him the pajamas. 

“You’ll be resting easier wearing this," Lor’themar offered.

There seemed to be enough dignity left in Rommath to deepen the flush the fever had painted on his face, but then he made an awkward grab for the buttons on his shirt, fumbling as he went.

Lor’themar supposed it was the caretaker in him that jumped in to take the reigns then, for he felt his own embarrassment lessen as he focused on the simple task of helping Rommath undress. First the shirt, where Lor’themar had to help Rommath sit up to pull it off him. Then the pants, where he helped him stand for long enough to let them slide to the floor. There was only the briefest of glances to confirm that Rommath wore boxers, then Lor’themar helped him put on the pajamas. 

After they had finished, Rommath slid down against him with an exhausted sigh, his head coming to rest in his lap, his body shaking with suppressed coughs.

“I have some cough syrup in the medicine cabinet," Lor’themar said, stroking Rommath’s back, before he made to leave.

“Wait," Rommath croaked, sucking in one ragged breath. “Just a little. Head spinning.”

Rommath did not protest when Lor’themar ran his fingers through his hair, long and silky against his fingers. In any other situation this might have been erotic, but now all such thoughts had fled him. His heart did ache for the man, filling with the desire to ease his discomfort as much as he could.

He gently eased Rommath off his lap when the other man seemed to have dozed off again, deciding to get the soup on before he had to go meet Salandria. 

Aethas had come through for him, for even he could manage to pretty up something that came out of a can. His chest was positively bursting with pride as he tasted it and it actually seemed like something he could proudly serve others. Lor’themar left the soup to cool in its pot, then swung by the hotel to collect Tiberius, who greeted him in the usual way, by rearing up on his hind legs and giving him a slobbery dog kiss.

“You should discourage him from doing that," Halduron said, leaning against his desk.

“It’s fine," Lor’themar said, pushing the dog down. “He seems to only do it to me, never to Salandria, or any of her friends.”

“Aw, he really loves you," Halduron said with a grin. “I wonder if Rommath will be jealous.”

“Please, Hal…”

“You know I’m just messing with you.”

Lor’themar bumped into Aethas on his way in as he left and the redhead pushed a container into his hands.

“It’s the tea I make for when either me or Hal are feeling sick," he said, pushing unruly strands of hair behind his ear. “Tell Rommath I hope he feels better soon.”

“Kael sends his best wishes too!” he called behind Lor’themar’s retreating back.

Salandria dashed ahead of him to check on Rommath while Lor’themar went to heat up the soup and pull out some of those pre-baked dinner rolls you could leave on low heat in the oven for them to puff up and get nice and crispy. Still, he would not risk taking his eye off them, so he had to send Salandria off with a glass of water and the bottle of cough syrup when she came into the kitchen.

“Mister Rommath is all sad he can’t do his dance class," she said with a sigh, Tiberius her eternal shadow, though the dog did have the sense to not disturb her while she was running chores for Lor’themar.

“Everyone gets the flu, honey," Lor’themar offered as he watched the rolls. “It’s up to us to make sure he gets well enough to hold the class again soon.”

Salandria beamed a smile at him before she left.

After Salandria and Tiberius had been fed, Lor’themar brought a tray with a bowl of soup, a fresh roll and a glass of water with another Motrin left next to it into the guest room. He was greeted of a sorts, by Rommath, who looked at him with slightly glazed over eyes.

“You cooked?” Rommath said with a hint of worry in his voice, which made Lor’themar smile.

“Don’t worry," he said with a grin. “Aethas gave me an idiot-safe recipe. An actually idiot-safe recipe.”

“You have a good daughter," Rommath said with a sigh, as Lor’themar found some extra pillows to prop him up.

“I know," Lor’themar said proudly. “I think she even gets some of it from me.”

The snort that escaped Rommath was encouraging, even though it became a coughing fit shortly after.

As Rommath did not protest, he found himself remaining by Rommath’s side as he ate, probably powered by the same stubborn determination that had brought him to his door the other day.

He left then, taking the tray with him, as Salandria needed some help with some final bit of homework the overzealous math teacher had given her, then he had to make sure the girl had packed what she needed for the weekend, as Liadrin would be picking her up tomorrow. 

“You will let me know when mister Rommath feels better, right Daddy?” she asked as he was tucking her in for the night. 

“Of course I will," Lor’themar said. “He might even let you know himself.”

When he checked on Rommath, he was having another coughing fit, so Lor’themar hastily gave him another dose of the cough syrup, before he remembered the tea Aethas had given him. 

It smelled minty, with some ginger and some other herbs and plants, some familiar, some not. When he brought the cup to Rommath’s lips, the man started slightly.

“This…” he mumbled.

“It’s from Aethas," Lor’themar said. “I bumped into him earlier.”

Rommath coughed again, then let out a snort.

“That’s my blend," he said. “Told him what was in it.”

“He’s not just a good student then," Lor’themar offered. “But a good friend too.”

“Yes…” Rommath sighed, leaning heavily against Lor’themar as he sipped the tea.

The cup drained and Rommath asleep again, Lor’themar lingered by the door, struck again by the conflicting emotions within him. On the one hand, this had thrown what other plans he had out of sync, the away game between Silvermoon and Stormwind had been something he and Hal had looked forward to, but on the other hand... Rommath, here, and now Lor’themar got to show some competence, unlike that last time.

A tingle ran up his spine that seemed to warn him that he was being watched, but Rommath looked to be deeply asleep, so he brushed it away as nothing.

A final check on Salandria, her clothes for tomorrow neatly folded on the chair, Tiberius asleep next to her bed, then Lor’themar called it a night.

The next morning Rommath was awake when Lor’themar checked on him, but he still looked like some some flavor of hell warmed over. There was an acceptance over him now and he assured Lor’themar he’d manage for what time he had to spend alone.

“Kids are leaving for summer break, but teachers still have paperwork to do," Lor’themar mused. “What’s the fairness in that?”

Rommath offered him a look that was encouraging, even if the only sound out of him was coughing. He was left with a fresh cup of tea, a glass of water with another Motrin next to it and a sandwich Salandria had made him. 

“We should bring mister Rommath ice cream," Salandria offered a bit later as they made their way back together, Tiberius as her heels barked his assent. Lor’themar had gambled on letting the dog into the teacher’s lounge for the short while he had to be in and he’d been thoroughly spoiled by the other staff present. 

Lor’themar spent an embarrassingly long time trying to decide which flavor to bring for Rommath, while Salandria licked her own cone of strawberry swirl, deftly feeding Tiberius crumbs from the cone, when the girl pointed out the coffee flavored one and Lor’themar had to suppress a moan. Of course. 

The ice cream was only half melted when they got back, but Rommath didn’t seem to mind much.

“Thank you," he rasped out, licking melted ice cream off the plastic spoon. 

“I think your voice is going a bit," Lor’themar said, handing Rommath a paper napkin. 

Rommath made a face, then let out a few more dry coughs. 

“Terrible," he got out.

“I’ll keep making that tea," Lor’themar said with a smile.

The word must have gotten out, and Lor’themar shot Salandria a look which the girl deflected with a smile, for when Liadrin arrived in the afternoon she had brought containers of actual, fancy chicken noodle soup from a take out place.

“How’s the invalid?” she asked with a quirked smile.

“Still running a fever, going hoarse, but coping well enough I think," Lor’themar said, thanking her profusely for the soup. 

“Make sure he rests a lot!” Salandria said, hefting her weekend bag over her shoulder. She then proceeded to hug Tiberius goodbye, while the dog licked every inch of her face.

“I hope you still have a good weekend, Lor," Liadrin offered sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder. “Yrel sends her well-wishes too of course.”

And just like that it was just Lor’themar, Tiberius and Rommath. Alone, as he’d wanted for so long, but not quite in the way he had imagined it.

He celebrated the occasion by making himself a coffee with just a bit of brandy and some more of the herbal tea for Rommath. Lor’themar ended up eating his own soup beside Rommath on his bed, because it felt like the best place to be at the time, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Tiberius made an attempt at getting up on the bed with them, but was gently dissuaded from doing so by Lor’themar. He frankly wasn’t sure if the bed would be up for it.

“Shouldn’t be so close," Rommath rasped out. “Germs.”

“I exercise regularly, I teach small children and I have a daughter," Lor’themar offered, spooning up the last of the delicious soup in his bowl. “I think my immune system is in pretty great shape.”

“Famous last words," Rommath managed to force out with a pained expression. When he leaned against Lor’themar this time, it was hard to push away that warm feeling that spread through his body. He’s still sick, Lor’themar told himself, it means nothing.

The next morning was another beautiful summer day, swallows darting high up in the air outside, promising fine and fair weather all day. Lor’themar took the opportunity to finish up the planning for the event next week with the kitchen window cracked open to let in some fresh air and he was halfway through his first cup of coffee when Rommath shuffled into the kitchen, the duvet wrapped around him.

“What are you doing up?” Lor’themar asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rommath offered only a grunt at first, then sat down at the table, coughing as he went.

“Have a meeting next week," Rommath finally said, misery in his voice. “Kael needs me there.”

“Well, you won’t be much use to him if you’re like this," Lor’themar said, putting aside his paperwork to make Rommath some more tea.

The other man was studying Lor’themar’s scribbles when he put down the cup of tea, as well as a serving of the scrambled eggs Lor’themar had made for himself.

“What’s this?” Rommath croaked out, taking the mug of tea with a grateful expression. Tiberius had abandoned his post morning walk snooze on the couch to join them and he was trying to force his head into Rommath’s lap and failing.

“It’s just an event for next week," Lor’themar said with a grin, feeling childishly excited to share his ideas. “It’s a… Thank The Light For Summer Break event, with their parents invited and we’ll have a cookout too at the end of the competitions.” 

“Though “competitions” is a strong word," Lor’themar added. “I just put together some events, making sure there’s at least one thing they can excel at.”

He moved his chair closer to Rommath’s and began to point at names on the list of the kids he was coaching.

“See, this kid, he’s got a bum leg, but he’s got the best throwing arm I’ve seen. Me and Hal keep joking that we should bring him into our games to do all the three point shots, but we’d win too easily that way. And this girl, don’t get fooled by the wheelchair, she’s a monster on the field, run your foot over if you’re not fast enough.”

Lor’themar kept going down the list, each child’s strengths expounded on, while Rommath hummed next to him, taking regular sips of the tea. Tiberius finally got his head where he wanted it when Rommath moved his chair out and the man’s free hand was tangling itself in Tiberius’ fur.

After he had finished he refilled Rommath’s cup, then went about finishing the task at hand.

“Salandria loves to help out at these things," Lor’themar said, peering up at Rommath. “She’s made some friends there.”

He did not attempt to force down this swell of warmth, all pride and love for his daughter, his only fear was that he would force her to grow up too fast. Like Lor’themar himself had been forced to, with a dead mother and disinterested father.

There was a break to let Tiberius head out to stretch his great legs for a bit, leaving Rommath at the table with his tea, then he finished up while Rommath watched. 

“You do great things," Rommath wheezed out as Lor’themar gathered up the plans in a tiny enough pile.

“It’s not more than what you do for the kids in your class," Lor’themar said with a smile. He touched Rommath’s forehead as he got up from the table, then looked up at the kitchen clock.

“You don’t feel as hot as you used to, so I’m not going to force you back in bed," Lor’themar said. “But the game is about to start and… Well…”

Without another word, or sound Rommath shuffled over to the couch, still wrapped in the duvet and sat down. Lor’themar blinked at the sight, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he just sat himself down as well, turning on the TV.

Lor’themar’s phone buzzed into life and he saw the text from Hal.

“Just turned it on," he wrote in response, realizing he was mouthing the words he was typing and flushed slightly.

Rommath just looked at him with a far off look, then leaned back. 

“M sure you’d prefer your friend here," he rasped out, suppressing a cough.

“I’m not sorry you’re here," Lor’themar said hastily, fighting down the urge to touch Rommath.

The phone buzzed again and Lor’themar checked the screen.

“Aethas asks how you’re feeling," Lor’themar said.

“Tell him not to worry about me," Rommath said hoarsely, his head coming to rest against Lor’themar’s shoulder again. How right it felt to have it there, Lor’themar noted. How properly it fit there, against him.

Soon enough Rommath would be well enough to leave and that would be it for this little experience.

At the end of the first half, Lor’themar had momentarily forgotten his company as he shot up from his seat, yelling and pumping his fists in the air.

“Yes! Suck on that Stormwind!” he yelled, pointing at the screen. “Better get rid of your goalie, he’s done nothing useful this match!”

As the referee blew the whistle to signal the end of the first half, a self conscious Lor’themar turned around to see Rommath gazing at him with a queer smile on his face. Tiberius was flopped against him, snoring lightly.

“I’ll call and order us something to eat," Lor’themar said, turning around to leave.

When he returned, Rommath patted the spot next to him and Lor’themar could only walk over and sit down. 

“I am blaming the fever for this," Rommath whispered and then he pressed his lips against Lor’themar’s.

Lor’themar’s mind went blank, except for a tiny voice that spoke about pathogens and transferral of diseases, but he silenced it. There was just Rommath’s lips, the faint scratch of stubble against his and the exhaled breath that turned into a weak cough when Rommath broke away from him.

“That’s...”Lor’themar managed to mumble out. 

Rommath only let out a thoughtful hum, then slumped back against the couch, his hands returning to stroke Tiberius, though the flush on his face seemed to have deepened.

Lor’themar almost started when the doorbell rang to signal the arrival of their food, then the game started up again, though he was understandably a bit distracted. He hoped Halduron could not tell anything was amiss in the few messages he managed to get off to him, but at the end of it all Silvermoon had completely thrashed Stormwind’s team, winning with 7-1.

 

_ that one goal was a ref mistake _

_ Yeah _

_ u okay Lor? _

_ Just fine _

 

Lor’themar threw the phone away, and turned to look at Rommath. 

“I think I like you a lot," he wanted to say. “Like, really like you a lot. But I am not sure how you will take it right now.”

Instead he just started stupidly at him, as the other man coughed.

Tiberius became a welcome distraction as he announced he really needed to go pee.

Outside a rare light summer rain was falling, proving that nothing in this world can truly be trusted. The light wetness was welcome though, clearing Lor’themar’s head. Rommath really would be leaving his home soon and then all could go back to normal.

But then he thought back to the kiss and wondered how much he really wanted that old routine. Unconsciously he licked his own lips, as if some taste of the other man had lingered on them. 

When he returned Rommath was asleep on the couch, buried under the duvet and it was an easy enough thing to carry him back to the bed in the guest room.

Lor’themar could tell Rommath was feeling better the next morning, for not only did he emerge in the night robe he had laid out for him the evening before, but he asked for coffee instead of the herbal tea when he sat down at the table.

“I think I should return home this afternoon," Rommath said, after the first sip of coffee. “There is that meeting tomorrow and I have some paperwork in my flat that I will need to prepare.”

His voice still sounded like a chain smoker’s, but Lor’themar could tell by the color on Rommath’s face that the fever had finally gone down. That made him feel both happy and sad, all at once, but instead of saying anything foolish, like exposing his foolish feelings for the man, he drank his own coffee and poked at the scrambled eggs on his plate, while Tiberius tried to look like he wouldn’t want to have some eggs now too please.

“When is Salandria coming back?” Rommath asked, running his slender fingers along the side of the cup, an action that was almost hypnotic. Lor’themar shook it off to answer.

“Since I am off tomorrow and Salandria doesn’t have school, I imagine Liadrin will drop her off on the way to work tomorrow.”

“Ah, pity," Rommath said, looking genuinely disappointed. Lor’themar pushed down the urge to grab his hand, touch his shoulder, or anything to offer comfort. Rommath was feeling better now, surely such touching would be inappropriate now.

“You can always come back, anytime. I know Salandria loves it when you come over," Lor’themar heard himself say, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. “There is still that promise to cook for us…”

“I will look at my calendar," Rommath said with a smile playing on his lips and Lor’themar was transfixed for a moment. 

“Salandria will be leaving on a trip to Stormwind in a few weeks though," Lor’themar hastened to add. “I mean, if you want to be sure to see her too…”

He forced back the urge to add an “or maybe it’s fine to just see me," but he did avert his gaze, not trusting Rommath not to read him like an open book.

“I’ll see what I can do," Rommath said, the smile still on his face as he sipped his coffee.

“I… Am very grateful for all your help," he added, after a brief silence. “Thank you, Lor’themar.”

When the afternoon finally rolled around, Rommath’s clothes had been washed and dried, the guest room cleaned up a bit and fresh sheets put down on the bed. There was even an attempt at some light cooking, with Rommath instructing him closely.  Lor’themar did most of the work of course, urging Rommath to stay off his feet as much as possible, resting up. Tiberius was more than grateful for the company, judging by the trail of drool left on the night robe in places.

It was surprisingly hard to say goodbye, when it was time for Rommath to leave, which made Lor’themar feel more than a little foolish. There was still the dance class, with the time to talk over coffee afterwards and Lor’themar may have suggested that, if he had the time, Rommath was more than welcome to show up for one of the evening games with the kids.

This was not some final goodbye, Lor’themar resolved, but the beginning of something else. What that would be exactly, he’d leave up to fate and time.

 

__

 

When Lor’themar woke up a few days later, with a deep ache in his bones, a swollen and sore throat and with a feeling like his internal thermostat was permanently broken he thought back to that kiss and wondered if it had truly been worth it.

Yes, he resolved, even as he remembered Salandria and wondered what in the name of the Sunwell he was supposed to do now. 

“Daddy, are you okay?” he heard her say, standing in the doorway to his bedroom, chewing on her lip in the same way Liadrin always did when she was worrying over something.

He tried to offer some sort of reassurance, but his body failed him, sending him into a bout of violent coughing. Lor’themar felt even more terrible, if such a thing was even possible, when the girl hastily ducked away leaving Tiberius standing in the doorway whining at him.

“Go to her," Lor’themar managed to gasp out and the dog obeyed.

He dove back under the covers, unable to do much else, so he was only faintly aware of Salandria talking on the phone with someone, hoping it wasn’t Liadrin or Halduron, surely both of them were far too busy at this time, Liadrin sorting out her caseload for her upcoming vacation and with people going on holiday, there were more pets at the hotel.

Lor’themar was also only vaguely aware of the doorbell ringing, some undeterminable time later, but what did cause him to snap into brief attention was Rommath, appearing in the doorway to his bedroom, pulling a trolley suitcase behind him and a hefting a bag of groceries in the other.

“Salandria called and said you weren’t feeling well," Rommath said, that wonderful smile lighting up his face. “Let me be the one to take care of you now.”

 

 


	3. Epilogue

Through the haze of his sickness, one stupid, inane phrase from his childhood kept ringing through Rommath’s head, courtesy of the Karazhan Productions Company:

 

There’s no place like home.

 

Rommath wasn’t sure the last time he really had a home. Certainly, his apartment wasn’t, though with Kim’alah it was closer than it had been in a long time. Still, it felt cold, bare, and lifeless. Perhaps, he mused as he lay curled up on Lor’themar’s guest bed while the man left for the day, that was why he overworked himself. With no home to return to, he never had any incentive to leave.

 

He dismissed that train of thought, calling it foolish, and fell back asleep.

 

But as the days passed and he felt (marginally) better, he came to realize that this small apartment, with its clutter and disorganization and loud inhabitants, was closer to home than he’d known in a while. He felt so at peace, even with Salandria’s small feet stomping up and down the hallway and Tiberius slobbering on his hands when he thought no one else was looking and Lor’themar’s awful off-key singing. His heart sang happy hymns when Lor’themar took the time to explain the class he ran to him, when Lor’themar was relaxed enough to be an utter goof around him cheering for his team, when Lor’themar let him rest on his shoulder.

 

He was almost sad, to finally leave. The logical part of him _knew_ that he needed to get back to work, to get his life back on track. But...Rommath found himself missing the warmth of Lor’themar’s home compared to his own cold apartment, missed the meals (as sometimes messily cooked as they were), missed the cuddles on the couch and the feel of Lor’themar’s lips against his own. He could blame the fever...but he didn’t feel like taking the easy way out, for once. He wanted this, this spot he’d carved out for himself in Lor’themar’s life.

 

So when Salandria called him, voice high and reedy with concern over her father, he dropped everything and left his old, cold life behind for the warm, new one ahead of him.

**Author's Note:**

> So the ship has finally left the port, yep.
> 
> All the usual thanks to the discord elf group. :)


End file.
